Silence
by Sergeant Turtle
Summary: Mikey doesn't believe that the twins can talk to each other without saying a thing. But one night, in the aftermath of a violent battle, he sees it happen with his own eyes, and understands. Oneshot. Meridian sidefling. Major fluffies - I think I've drowned twice already...


**Hello again! These wonderful ideas just keep coming! This one's set after Pandora's Box and contains an interesting balance between some slightly bloody violence and some seriously epic fluff. Enjoy.**

* * *

'I don't know if Leo and Don are as close as we think.'

The non sequitur catches Raph off guard, and he looks up with a spoonful of cereal poised between his bowl and his mouth, confusion plastered all over his face as he stares at his baby brother.

Mikey would normally have laughed at such a look on his immediate older brother's face, but he is deep in thought, one hand supporting his chin and the other tracing the circles in the wood as he's apt to do when thinking. His face is abnormally unreadable. Raph puts down his spoon, brows drawing together. 'What makes ya say that, Mike?'

'They don't talk to each other much. I mean, _really _ can't be all that close if they don't talk much.'

Raph lets a small smile flicker across his face. Once more the problem stems from Mikey just not being able to understand. 'That's not true at all, Mike. Leo and Don don't talk much _because_ they're so close.'

'Huh?'

'They know how to read each other. Most of their conversations don' use words.'

'That's impossible, Raph.'

'No it ain't. You watch 'em carefully and ya might just see 'em talking in silence.'

* * *

Mikey still doesn't believe, and the next night is anything _but_ silent. Word of Bishop and the Foot at an abandoned dock house has the three able ninjas leaping over the rooftops in search of a little payback, or at least an opportunity to foil some dastardly plans.

What they find as they run inside shocks them all. The Foot stand over the bodies of nearly two dozen dockworkers, slain for their knowledge of what has been stowed inside the four walls. Bishop steps out from the shadows, his cold smile widening at their horror. He orders the attack, and Raph responds in kind, urging his brothers on for the justice of the unknowns lying crumpled on the floor.

They are vastly outnumbered, and with the element of surprise lost, the fighting is tough. One elite ninja manages a lucky swipe, his katana slicing a line of red down Don's arm.

He is dead in the next five seconds, along with four of his comrades. The smell of blood and chemicals, the presence of Bishop, and the pain coursing through his system is enough for Don to lose control. The ninja that he doesn't slaughter beat a hasty retreat as the feral beast claws and slashes through them. The last of the group vanish through a skylight, and Raph manages to grab Don from behind and pin his arms. The genius turtle struggles briefly, but his leader's vehement whisper in his ear brings him slowly back to himself.

Surveying the carnage, his eyes widen and he begins to tremble, collapsing to all fours. When Mikey shakes his shoulders, telling him they need to leave before they are discovered, he is unresponsive, staring at the mauled bodies. His brothers finally drag him to his feet and race for the nearest manhole just as the sirens come into earshot.

* * *

When they finally get home, they can see the flickering expression on Leo's face – the fear and worry that he pushes back. His eyes widen as Mikey leads forward Don, who is clearly in shock, and he goes straight into big-brother-mode, directing for them to enter the infirmary. Mikey sits his genius brother down on the nearest cot, then surrenders his position to Leo and hops up onto the next one, allowing Raph to patch up his wounds with a minimum of eye-rolling.

Leo pulls Don's arm gently out of his jacket sleeve and takes a look at his only visible injury. The cut is fairly long, but not deep, and he reaches for the med-kit – it won't take too many stitches. He works quickly, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu. It was only a few weeks ago that _he_ sat white-faced and mute on a cot while Don stitched up a far worse injury, subsequently starting another healing process, helping to pick up the pieces of a broken soul.

Band-aids and sterile gauze applied, Mikey sits quietly and watches the elder twin bandage over the stitched cut. Then – he sees it. And, to his own surprise, he understands it, translating the silence into sentences.

Leo ties off the bandage, then takes his twin's hand in his, placing the other on Don's shoulder so that the genius turtle meets his eyes.

**_Talk to me, little brother. I'm here. I'm listening._**

The purple-clad turtle looks at his feet, pulling away, but his twin persists, taking Don's other hand and clasping both in his own.

_I don't want to talk about it. It was too horrible._

**_Look at me, Donnie._**

Don looks up into Leo's eyes. Frightened, guilty brown meets gentle, searching silver-grey, and the look behind those eyes breaks down Don's barriers. Letting out a choked sob, he reaches for Leo and his brother responds, wrapping strong arms around the genius and holding him close. Burying his face into the crook of Leo's neck, Don forces the terrible tale out in broken whispers, tears shining in his eyes.

When he's finished, Leo says nothing, but he instinctively holds his brother tighter, one hand reaching up to rub the back of Don's neck. He knows it's an effective calming tool, and his twin's ragged sobs begin to ease. Leo continues the small movement until Don's breathing evens out, and the purple-masked turtle, exhausted physically and emotionally, allows himself to fall asleep in his brother's arms.

Leo lets out a relieved sigh that only Mikey hears – Raph having left the room for something or other. The eldest gently unlatches Don's arms from around his neck, removes the genius' jacket and shoes and settles him on the cot, covering the sleeping turtle with a blanket. He runs a hand over his own drooping eyes and Mikey, curled up on the other cot, realises that his brother has been up the whole night, waiting for them to come home. 'Leo?'

The blue-clad turtle looks up and smiles tiredly at his baby brother. 'Hey there, buddy. You okay?'

Mike nods but there's a question in his eyes. _Donnie gonna be alright?_

_In time,_ Leo answers without a syllable, and Mikey gives his eldest brother a little smile as Leo tucks him in and plants a gentle kiss on the top of his head. ''Night, baby brother.'

''Night, Leo,' replies the younger, but his expression is clearly asking his brother not to leave. Leo smiles, genuine this time – he can see it. 'Want me to stay?'

Mikey's embarrassed silence says everything – he knows he's too old to be afraid of the monsters under the bed, but he _is_ – and Leo sits on the edge of the cot, stroking his baby brother's spiky blonde hair. The orange-masked turtle squirms onto Leo's lap and drifts off, feeling safe and loved and secure in the knowledge that while _he_ may not understand sometimes, Leo always will.

* * *

**So... fluffy... I'm drowning...**


End file.
